


Growl

by justalittlegreen



Series: Sunshine and Filth [6]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Finally, M/M, Slash, hunnihawk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-11 16:23:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16478924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Summary: Hawkeye and BJ find each other.





	Growl

It **is** a growl.

BJ is still wiping his nose on Hawk's terrycloth-clad shoulder - he doesn't want to let him go, not for a second - and feeling Hawkeye's lean, strong arms around him, and a tumble of gratitude, fear, relief, joy and heat when he feels Hawkeye's own tears on his shoulder. Hawkeye, the clown who feels everything so much he can't admit he feels anything. Hawkeye, the quip for every silence. Hawkeye, who is holding him up. Hawkeye, who holds him.

And then he feels the kiss. 

Soft, but not tentative. Reassuring and gentle, a kiss he might drop on Peg's forehead. Another way of saying  _I'm here. I've got you._

And also, a thunderbolt. The kiss claps through BJ like gunfire. It rattles him so thoroughly he can't even bite his lip or clench his teeth before he admits how good it feels. Hawk's arms. Hawk's lips. He takes a sharp breath, and a sound comes out he's never heard before. A cross between a gasp, a sob, and the growl that - until now - only Peggy could elicit. 

Everything in war is physical. Hatred comes in bombs, healing comes in stitches, companionship comes in hand on shoulder on back on lips on skin on skin on skin -

Hawkeye's hands have stopped moving. 

_Beej?_

It's barely a whisper, but BJ hears everything Hawkeye has tucked into his name: concern. Reassurance. Love. Protectiveness. Ferocity. Love. Love. Love. 

There is no other name for it.

 _Hawkeye._

BJ feels the smaller man melt against him. Together, they slowly sit down on Hawkeye's cot, thigh to thigh, as they do every day in the mess tent. They don't look at each other, but they are connected from shoulder to ankle, leaning into one another on purpose.

It's Frank who breaks into the silence. Of course.

 _What're you looking at?_ he yowls as he storms into the tent. Hawkeye and BJ fall away from each other, Hawk diving under the bed for an imagined something, and BJ doesn't think. He bounces a few times on Hawk's cot and looks innocently up at Frank.

 _We were just testing to see if we all got our beds back. But here, Frank, I think Hawkeye got yours. Smells too much like Major Houlihan's shampoo, and -_ he grins, wickedly -  _nail polish remover, is it?_

From under the bed, Hawkeye giggles and rolls out, cluching a stiff, crusted sock that BJ doesn't even think he packed. 

 _Here!_ he shouts, throwing the sock at Frank.  _I think I found out what Frank's been up to now when he's lurking outside Hot Lips's tent._

 _You...you...NINNNIES!_ Frank yelps as he storms out of the tent.  _I'm telling Colonel Potter I want a transfer!_

 _Darn!_ says Hawkeye, snapping his fingers, his old self returning for a moment,  _we should've tried that ages ago!_

 _He's gone,_ BJ says quietly. 

_Ah, yes. Where were we?_

_I'm not sure, exactly, but I don't think I want to be here when he comes back._

Hawkeye looks up from the floor, uncertainty clouding his face.

_Beej - if you want to go - take a shower, or write a letter, or heaven forbid, eat something, we could just -_

BJ leans down and grabs Hawk's lapels in one hand and pulls him to his knees.

 _We could just what?_ he asks softly, looking Hawkeye straight in the eye.

Hawkeye swallows. BJ watches the ripple of his throat and feels it go right through him. Something inside him - something he expected to be asleep for a very long time - has woken up. And it's hungry.

 _Follow me,_ Hawkeye mouths, leaving the tent.

It's after dusk, and BJ thinks he knows where they're going, but he follows anyway.

The back of the supply tent - stuff of legend, stuff of rumor, BJ's imagined what could transpire in that cramped space, just far enough away from most of the prying ears. Hawk moves nimbly, with purpose. It seems like his feet know every pebble and root between here and the Swamp. They're not touching, but BJ's following so closely he nearly trips on Hawk's heels. They reach the back door, and Hawkeye points. 

_no hanger on the door. that means it's empty._

He slips inside, and BJ follows. 

Now it's BJ's shirt that's in Hawkeye's fists. He feels himself getting pulled into the darkness, trying to remember where everything is, not wanting to knock over a case of penicillin. He gets his arms around Hawkeye, and suddenly, Hawkeye's lips are on his neck again, kisses trailing up to his jaw, his cheeks, and BJ bends down and it takes a second for them to find each other - but when their lips meet, Hawk  _whimpers_ , high and wanting, and BJis all growl and need, and all he can think to do is press himself harder and harder into Hawkeye. There is nothing but darkness, and Hawkeye's skin, and his lips, and his tongue is slipping into BJ's mouth, and BJ  _opens._ He opens his mouth and yields to the fierce roaring hunger and want, torn between wanting to take anything Hawkeye can give him and wanting to pin him down just to feel him squirm.

Hawk never stops moving. His fingers dig into BJ's skin, reaching for the back of his neck and the small of his back. He holds BJ like a cello in his arms, searching for the spots that will bring out the sounds - those sounds, that growl from deep in the back of BJ's throat, so wild and rough Hawkeye feels his body answering it like a call. He is all throb and need, and feeling BJ mimic the actions of his own hands to find Hawkeye's song of want. Hawk's mind flashes to a vision of them naked (thank you, shower tent, for accuracy) and locked together, writhing. His Androcles has a little lion in him afterall.

When he pulls back to breathe, he puts a hand on BJ's chest. Feels his heart racing, the panting, the satisfaction of knowing he's brought Mr. Unflappable to the brink of need. He smiles in the dark, wide and with no mischief or malice in it. He wasn't wrong.  _He wasn't wrong. It isn't wrong._


End file.
